


Hennesy Homies

by hoopshoney



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bromance, Erik Killmonger Lives, Erik Killmonger Redemption, Other, Reluctant friends, bros are bros, i love a good friendship, i love bros, redemption arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoopshoney/pseuds/hoopshoney
Summary: "How about a one shot with M’Baku seeking dating advice from Erik because the woman he’s interested in is American. Of course it’s Erik so it could go any kind of way (hood Erik or redeemed Erik, etc) "I took some liberties with the plot BUT I like the way it turned out. Ignore the mistakes, I didn’t have time to proofread and its driving me insane!





	Hennesy Homies

**Author's Note:**

> "How about a one shot with M’Baku seeking dating advice from Erik because the woman he’s interested in is American. Of course it’s Erik so it could go any kind of way (hood Erik or redeemed Erik, etc) "
> 
> I took some liberties with the plot BUT I like the way it turned out. Ignore the mistakes, I didn’t have time to proofread and its driving me insane!

 

* * *

After saving his life, T’challa really had no idea what to do with N’jadaka. Far from reformed, T’challa and the council acknowledged that perhaps having an outlet to direct his energy and natural aggression would be good for him. The result of these musings was that N’jadaka now led training sessions with those training to be war dogs. He had a low tolerance for bullshit and was a punishing instructor, making him the perfect candidate to weed out those who could never do the job and find the best of the best.

Today Erik was hosting an extra long training session, pushing his students to an almost sadistic degree as they sparred with each other. While one might think he was dedicated to his craft, in reality he was avoiding the diplomatic proceedings his cousin had wanted him to attend.

To T’challa’s dismay, Erik hadn’t taken to the political aspects of Wakanda the way he wanted him to. Erik was all about action and he wasn’t about to wade through diplomacy and political niceties with these uppity people to do it. Hence, the long training session. He wasn’t about to chat it up with the Jabari and other tribes like he wasn’t fully prepared to kill all of them to get what he wanted years ago. He wouldn’t apologize for his actions, so they all agreed it would be best for him to skip the meeting with the Jabaris.

He was standing on the training grounds arms crossed as he watched his students.

“Do NOT hold back!,” his voice boomed through the building, “You think these niggas gonna be out here trying not to hurt y'all. Nah, it don’t work like that! Get hit now, so you don’t get hit later!”

Moving through the crowd, he occasionally stopped, adjusting someone’s stance, or throwing an unexpected blow to test someone’s reflexes. The lucky ones, would respond in time, the unlucky one’s were usually carried off the floor.

He was leading a group of students to attack one student, when T’challa entered with M’baku and a few of his warriors in tow.

They stood towards the back of the room, watching the female warrior frantically defending the attacks that were coming from all angles.

“Interesting technique,” M’baku’s eyes never leave the training grounds as he speaks to T’challa.

“Yes, N’jadaka is fierce and his methods are unorthodox, but those trained by him are some of our best in field operatives.” T’challa’s voice is slightly defensive when he responds.

M’baku smiles a bit at the aggressive tone. “Tuh! No need to get defensive, king,” his voice is taunting on the last word “If we are to work together I must trust your judgment, ay. Perhaps we will have time to test my warriors with these unorthodox methods before our visit is complete.”

* * *

The next morning saw Erik training both the War dogs and a select group of the Jabari. The Jabari were strong warriors and seemed to immediately accept the rules of “all or nothing” when it came to Erik’s training.

M’baku stood beside him as the warriors trained barking out orders beside him, encouraging his warriors to fight fiercely and without mercy.

“You have adapted well to life here,” M’baku looks at his warriors as he speaks, “Seems the title of prince fits you better than usurper.” M’baku’s mouth tilts into a fierce smile as he speaks wondering how the infamous hot head will react.

Standing beside him, Erik’s body doesn’t even tense in anger, instead his response is quick and serious, “Way I see it both of us lost to that goofy ass nigga. Guess the title of ally fits you better than usurper.”

They are both silent for a second, finally turning to look at each other, both of them sizing each other up. M’baku grins widely, his booming laugh breaking up the silence.  He claps Erik on the back, his blow damn near knocking him off balance.

“You are very funny for such a short man. Come, end this training so that we can get a drink. We can bond over our dislike of that ‘goofy ass nigga’.”

Three hours later and both men were completely drunk, a feat considering the size and tolerance of them both.  

“So you have this–this Hennessy, shipped in from America?” M’baku asks, throwing back another shot as he does.

“Hell yeah! Convinced one of the fine ass merchant tribe girls to sneak it back on the trade trips.” Erik’s stance is loose on the bar stool he’s sitting on, his body as relaxed as it had been in a while.

“America, America, America! That is all I hear about recently!”, M’baku gripes, his hands swinging widely as he speaks, “There is only one thing good about that country. You know what that is,‘Daka?”

“Nah–” Erik only gets the one word out before M’baku interrupts.

“–the women!” M’baku’s voice is firm as he slams his glass down on the bar.

“Ahhhhh,” Erik’s voice is knowing as he pours them another drink, “got you a little brown skinned American shawty, huh?”

Sighing, the giant shakes his head, the action almost comical on the big man, “Tuh! I am trying to make her my ‘shawty’. But American women are very different.”

“ Nah, fuck that shit, all women the same.” Erik says leaning in, “Just fuck her right and you good.” He says this like this is the end all be all of solutions.

Rubbing his hands across his face, M’baku huffs out a laugh, “I do not think that is the problem.”

“Ohhhhhh,” Erik’s voice is sly as he cuts his eyes over to M’baku, “you already gave her that sacred wood!” His voice is proud as he says the last sentence, his hand going out for a dap that goes completely unnoticed by M’baku.

“ She is very reserved about sex, you know. It is very peculiar,”

“Man, you musta’ got you a prude or somethin’” Erik’s voice is dismissive, “the women I been with have no problem throwing that ass back, front and sideways.”  
M’baku’s considers for a second, thinking that perhaps that is a possibility, “Perhaps you are correct, ‘Daka. She did react very strongly when I mentioned her ‘throwing that ass back’ at the tribal dinner.”

Erik was rarely surprised, but M’baku’s words caused him to spit his drink out in a spluttering couch. Gathering himself quickly, he looks at the man beside him in disbelief, “You did what?”

“Sex is freely talked about with the Jabari. I did not think she would react the way she did,” M’baku voice is basically a groan, Erik’s reaction telling him all he needs to know, “I think throwing a plate at me was a little dramatic, though her aim was impressive.”

“Forreal, I’m surprised yo ass is still alive,” voice matter of fact, Erik doesn’t even try to hide the laughs spilling out of him.

“Tuh! I am..barely,” grabbing the bottle from the man beside him he swigs from it directly.

Leaning forward, Erik decides to take pity on the man. Shit, he had been in his fair share of situations with pissed off women so he felt he might have some expertise to offer her.

“Look, this what you do, show up at her place, give her some bomb ass dick and a Gucci bag!”

“A Gucci bag? Is this an accepted form of apology in your culture?”  M’baku is skeptical of the simple advice, it can’t be this easy.

Erik’s voice is confident, as he takes one last shot. “Hell yeah! And if that don’t work, just fuck her till she forget.”

 


End file.
